Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Mara
Here’s the thing nobody tells you about relocating to an alien mining colony—the recruitment packet lies.
Lies, lies and more lies.
The packet had a very tasteful rendering of a glowing blue crystal and the phrase competitive hardship compensation in a font designed to make you feel brave.
It did not mention that every single being on this planet is roughly the size of a vending machine, that the air smells like hot rock and lightning, or that I would step off the transport disk feeling like I was about to throw up.
“Breathe, Mar.” My brother, Andrew, slings an arm around my shoulders and steers me off the transporter disk toward the intake line. “You did it, you made it across the Four Sectors in one piece.”
“Thank gods,” I breathe, then look down at myself and around the room.
It’s true, the nausea is quickly receding, probably only arriving from my nervousness.
For the first time in my life I took a transporter disk to get somewhere super-fast and I’m a little bit giddy with relief.
I’ve never traveled this way before because the cost is astronomical, therefore I’ve always taken a commercial ship to the next job or location, but for this one, Minecorp paid to send us via fancy transporter disk.
I’ve been disassembled from the disk on Singapore, New Earth scattered in a million atoms and reassembled, lightning-fast, here, on another disk on Timbur.
It all happened in the blink of an eye, perfectly painless.
I’m still holding my suitcase, which seems to have reassembled too.
I’m traveling like a rich celebrity and it’s exhilarating.
Andrew went first and he looks happy, but then, he always looks happy. “You’re good,” he declares. “We’re both good. Can you believe we arrived this fast? I could get used to traveling this way.”
I nod in agreement because it’s true that flying slow in the economy section sucks.
My brother is annoyingly tall, which means on a planet full of giants he’s merely enormous instead of comical.
“It’s a grid job,” he reminds me. “Same as the last four. This time on a remote mining planet, with Illibrium, the most important energy source in the four sectors. And we’re here to do an audit of their grid to make sure it works correctly so they can keep supplying crystals to all the governments in the Four Sectors. ”
“No pressure.”
“None,” he agrees, with a grin.
And okay, that pulls a laugh out of me, which is exactly what he wanted.
Andrew is the one who found this contract, actually.
Sent it to me at two in the morning with the subject line fresh start, weirdo and a single line of text, they need two grid people, I already applied for both of us, don’t overthink it. HIGH PAYING.
And when I saw the bonus payment we were being offered to come here, quick, I said yes.
Andrew likes the adventurous contracts, while I like the low-key placements, preferably on New Earth.
But it’s true that the ones he chooses for us are seriously high-paying, so here I am, on Timbur, trying to save currency for a down payment on that high rise apartment on Omega 9 I’ve always wanted.
The intake line moves slow. This is a Xylan outpost, run mostly by the Royal Pigment Xylan but the miners and other employees are mainly all Margol Xylan, therefore that’s who’s in line ahead of us, plus a scatter of other new hires of varying species.
The staff hand us both the green gloves of the unmated.
Andrew and I have worked on Chronos, the Xylan home planet, quite a few times so this is nothing new.
Then a being the size of a doorway, with ridges on his forehead and long, braided hair, checks my credentials, grunts, and waves me toward a side room for what he calls, ominously, “the attunement test.”
I glance over at my brother and he shrugs, as puzzled as I am.
The two of us are separated and I’m seated on a bench in a small room.
A very serious Xylan female brings out a glowing crystal on a cloth, holds it near my hand, not touching, just nearby.
I can’t help but smile because Illibrium is always so gorgeous.
I’m in awe of these amazing, shimmering crystals that hold so much stable, limitless power.
I’ve never actually been this close to one before, so I’m thrilled for this opportunity.
The stone... warms and turns a brighter, cleaner blue.
The female makes a note and says, “You’re attuned. Good. Welcome,” in a tone that suggests this is both completely normal and slightly remarkable.
“Attuned to what?”
“The Illibrium and fortunately you’re attuned at a high enough level to allow you full passage throughout the mine.”
I crook an eyebrow, wondering what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been attuned.
Then I rejoin Andrew, who got the same test and passed.
And now we exit the transporter station and walk out into the Admin level of Minecorp on Timbur, which is filled with large Xylan miners moving back and forth during shift change.
A goofy smile spreads across my face as I take in the famous Illibrium mine.
Below our feet are probably thousands of levels and hundreds of miners and techs working on Illibrium extraction.
This place is enormous and highly impressive.
This might be the biggest job of my career.
Again, no pressure.
We both tug on our green gloves, making sure that before we’re out here amongst so many other Xylan, our bare hands are covered, just in case.
I glance up at the lights, noting the way the whole colony runs on Illibrium.
This power is threaded through everything, the lights, lifts, locks, the great slow machines hauling crystal up from great depths.
There’s no combustion, no external grid feed, no solar array bolted on as an afterthought.
I’ve worked on so many of these giant grids, I’ve become a specialist. One thing I’ve learned is that the failure is never, ever, the Illibrium, it’s always a failure within the network.
My fingers actually itch. I want to open a panel and see the schematic.
I want to know what broke. “I’m interested in learning how this was set up and why it’s failing. ”
My brother nudges against my shoulder. “And I’m interested in the signing bonus.”
I shake my head.
“There you are. You must be the Wilsons,” a delightful voice calls out.
Andrew and I both turn to find a tall, female Xylan approaching.
She has long black-and-gold braids and a warm smile that somehow manages not to be terrifying.
“Welcome to Timbur. I’m Sulinda of Eight,” she greets.
“I’ll be walking you to your quarters and getting you settled.
I do intake for most of our special arrivals.
It’s my favorite part of the job, honestly.
I like being the first friendly face a being from off-planet sees when they arrive on Timbur. ”
“Hi, I’m Mara,” I answer, relieved to have a guide. And then, because she’s offered a gloved hand, I shake it carefully through the fabric. “This is my brother, Andrew.”
“Nice to meet you both, Mara and Andrew. It’s interesting, having a brother and sister team, working together, how lovely.
Thank you for coming to Timbur on short notice and agreeing to travel via transporter.
We appreciate having you here. I promise we are going to do our best to make sure you are comfortable during your stay.
You also have all the access to the mine that you need in order to get your work done. ”
And then her cheerful face goes briefly serious.
“Now, before we go any further, the most important rule.” She holds up her own gloved hands.
“I see that you are already wearing the gloves of the unmated. Thank you. And because I know you’ve been given classified clearance on Chronos for prior work on their grids, I’m certain you already know all the rules.
But, I have to say all of this to you again, because those are my rules.
Don’t forget that you’ll both need to always wear those gloves, basically the moment you step outside of your employee quarters.
The rule is simple,” Sulinda continues, “and it is not one we bend. You do not touch the bare hand of an unmated Xylan. Not skin to skin. Not ever, not by accident. Through the glove is fine, a handshake, passing a tool, steadying someone on the lift, all fine, so long as there’s fabric between the both of you.
But bare palm to bare palm?” She shakes her head slowly.
“That is how our species discovers their mates. And it is not something that can be undone.”
I nod in agreement. “We’ve worked amongst Xylan before and we’re used to these rules and we perfectly understand how to follow them. It won’t be a problem,” I assure her.
Andrew holds up a green, gloved, hand. “On, at all times,” he agrees. “We’re here to fix a grid, not marry the locals.”
“And that,” says Sulinda cheerfully, “is exactly what my friend Leah said when she first arrived. Come, come. You’ve had a long journey and you’ll want to rest before your first shift.”
I have no idea who this Leah is and what Sulinda’s referring to, but I follow along, because it’s true that I’m already tired, pulling my suitcase behind me. The idea of having somewhere to sit and rest for a bit sounds lovely.
We turn into a smaller side hallway with the same impossible engineering as everything else here, perfectly ventilated and temperature-controlled with walls of smooth-cut rock that look like they could shrug off an orbital strike.
I trail a hand along one as we walk. Andrew watches me do it and mouths nerd at me. I ignore him with dignity.